


The Man Comes Around

by pied_pollo



Category: Criminal Minds (US TV)
Genre: Ambiguous/Open Ending, Angst and Hurt/Comfort, Dialogue Heavy, Dissociative Identity Disorder, Episode: s02e15 Revelations, Episode: s04e20 Conflicted, Flashbacks, Gapfill, Gen, Hallucinations, Implied/Referenced Drug Addiction, Mental Institutions, Nightmares, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, Relapse, Well not really, can't give everyone a good end, casefic, ignore me, interrogations, it's not happy but not exactly sad??, not really - Freeform, of sorts, oh just, then it'd be no fun, well actually it would considering that is basically the definition of a good end
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-07-18
Updated: 2020-07-23
Packaged: 2021-03-05 07:41:28
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 7
Words: 9,579
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25347133
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/pied_pollo/pseuds/pied_pollo
Summary: It's been four years since Amanda Jackson locked Adam in his own body. True to his word, Dr. Spencer Reid has visited him every year since--but this year is different. This year, there's another person that makes their way back into Spencer's life, forcing him to revisit the past and face nightmares he thought had left him. But Spencer is willing to do whatever it takes to get Adam back, and if that means digging into the darkest parts of his mind, so be it, and luckily, this time, he isn't alone.
Comments: 23
Kudos: 64





	1. Genesis 15:16

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> _In the fourth generation your descendants will come back here, for the sin of the Amorites has not yet reached its full measure._

**QUANTICO, VIRGINIA**

It was five in the morning, and the BAU was nearly silent. The only sounds were the soft rustling of paper and the steady gurgle of the coffee machine. Few agents were in this part of the building, but among them was Aaron Hotchner, who was currently sitting in his office, looking somber as he glanced at a note left on his desk.

_Going to Dallas for the weekend. JJ is e-mailing my consults. SR._

Soft footsteps announced the arrival of Emily Prentiss outside Hotch’s door. She glanced at the note on his desk and hummed knowingly. “Reid’s going to Dallas?”

“Yeah,” Hotch replied dismally, “and I don’t like it.”

Emily shrugged helplessly. “What can we do? It’s Reid--he can’t stand a puzzle he isn’t able to solve.”

“I understand that,” Hotch murmured, “but every time he goes...”

“Yeah,” Emily agreed, despite Hotch not finishing his sentence, “it’s rough. But Reid knows what he’s getting into.”

“He always does,” Hotch sighed, “yet he decides to do it anyway.”

“That’s just how he rolls, Hotch. You know that.”

“This is the fourth year since that case, and he’s gone every year--of course he’s capable, I understand that, but after the events of this year…”

“You don’t know what’s changed because of Maeve,” Emily finished. “He’s still grieving, and this situation’s stressful enough.”

Hotch nodded.

“Well,” Emily murmured, “who knows? Maybe this is the year.”

“Maybe,” Hotch echoed, though his voice was tinged with doubt. He exhaled slowly, rubbing a tired hand over his face before standing up, face grim.

“I have an idea.” 

__________

**DALLAS, TEXAS**

It wasn’t as hot this year. In fact, the air was almost cool and misty, light rain cutting through the humidity. Spencer Reid tilted his chin up to let the drops fall on his face, and the sky was dark with storm clouds.

He walked into the building slowly, and it was empty save for a bored-looking woman at the front desk. Spencer cleared his throat, which caught her attention, and she brightened at the sight of him.

“Dr. Reid,” she greeted, taking out a pen and setting it on the desk. “Nice to see you again.”

“Hi, Anita,” Spencer said softly, giving her a smile that didn’t reach his eyes. He was silent for a moment as he scribbled his name on the sign-in sheet, then reached into his pockets to surrender his badge and gun. Anita accepted them and gestured down the hall.

“You know where to go.”

“Thank you.”

Spencer’s footsteps echoed in the damp hallway, and he walked slowly. It was not slow as in casual, but more apprehensive; he tucked his hands in his pockets and kept his head down, deep in thought.

Eventually, Spencer reached a left turn, which he took, and stopped outside the first door to his right. He waited a few moments before bringing a fist up and knocking twice.

“Come in,” a muffled voice said from inside.

Spencer took in a deep breath before opening the door, and the room was exactly the same--soft couch against one wall, a worn chair in another. A recording camera balanced on a tripod in the corner, pointed towards a woman who was standing by the window. She took a long drag from her cigarette before turning to face Spencer.

“Dr. Reid,” she greeted cooly. “Didn’t think you were going to come this year.”

“I meant what I said,” Spencer replied, “I’m coming every year, until--”

“You’re late,” the woman interrupted, crossing the room to sit down heavily on the couch. She tucked a curl of hair behind her ear and motioned for Spencer to sit. He did.

“I had a field case,” Spencer explained, “and it needed my full attention. That’s why this meeting was postponed.”

“I’m just playin’,” the woman drawled, puffing another foul cloud in Spencer’s direction. “I don’t mind you putting off our little date.”

“This isn’t a date,” Spencer said curtly.

The woman clicked her tongue in mock surprise. “Ooh, someone’s touchy this year,” she remarked. “Now what? We’re gonna do our little thing, back and forth, askin’ questions until you start begging?”

“No,” Spencer replied, sitting back in his chair. “I want to know what you’ve been up to.”

The woman scoffed. “Believe it or not, Dr. Reid, but I haven’t done much.” Spencer started to speak, but she held up her finger to silence him. “No. I want _you_ to tell _me_ what you’ve been up to. All of it. _Especially_ that little field case of yours.”

Spencer inhaled deeply, and the woman gave him a tight-lipped smile. She took another drag from her cigarette before leaning back against the couch, satisfied.

“Then,” she said, “we can talk about Adam.”


	2. Job 15:18

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> _What the wise have declared, hiding nothing from their ancestors._

**QUANTICO, VIRGINIA**

“I don’t get it. Who’s Adam?” Alex Blake asked.

The rest of the team looked around at each other before Emily spoke up: “A few years ago, we were called down to Dallas for what seemed to be a dual killing team--male and female, working together to lure and murder different men.”

“When we got there,” Derek Morgan continued, “we found out our UnSub was Adam Jackson, who worked in a hotel located in the center of the UnSub’s comfort zone.”

“I don’t get it,” Blake murmured, “I thought you said Spencer was visiting a woman--Amanda.”

“He is,” Garcia replied, “because Adam and Amanda are the same person.”

“Adam has DID,” JJ explained, “and he had one alter personality--a woman named Amanda. We later learned that this personality was created as a result of Adam’s abuse at the hand of his stepfather, and the entire time, _Amanda_ was our UnSub.”

“So Adam had no idea he was killing these men?” Blake queried.

“Yes,” Rossi confirmed, “and ever since then, Adam has been locked inside his body. Reid goes to the Dallas sanitarium every year to try and get through to him.”

“But we’ve had unsolved cases before,” Blake said, “what makes this different?”

The team lapsed into uncomfortable silence, glancing at each other anxiously. Finally, Hotch told her: “Six years ago, Reid was abducted by a man named Tobias Hankel, an UnSub who also had DID.”

“He had two other alters,” JJ added solemly. “There was his father, Charles, and an angel named Raphel. Spence was drugged and tortured for two days.”

“Oh my God,” Blake breathed.

Garcia nodded, tears in her eyes. “It was terrible,” she admitted, “and ever since then…”

“In the end, Reid killed Tobias and we were able to find him in time,” Morgan said. “But DID’s a pretty bad subject for him. And so now, trying to help Adam is like his penance.”

“His penance?” Blake echoed.

Hotch nodded. “Reid feels responsible for not being able to save Tobias, so he won’t stop until he can find Adam again--even if that means going to him on the anniversary of his kidnapping.”

Blake gaped. “Did you say _anniversary_? And you’re letting him go _alone_?”

“Not exactly,” Rossi admitted. “That’s where you come in.”

“You want me to go to Dallas?” Blake guessed, unsure. “I know the least about his experiences. Why me?”

“That’s why we want you to go,” JJ explained. “You’re the least likely to share his trauma. Having you around might make things less...real.”

Blake nodded slowly. “I see.”

“It’ll use up a couple leave days,” Hotch informed her, “and it’ll be incredibly emotionally taxing--for you as well as him.”

Blake paused, deep in thought. Then, she decided: “When does the next plane take off for Dallas?”

__________

**DALLAS, TEXAS**

“I don’t believe you.”

“And why is that?”

Amanda snuffed out her cigarette in a glass ashtray and brushed the residue from her hands. “You’re hiding something from me. Tell me what it is.”

“Everything I’ve told you so far is the truth,” Spencer insisted.

“I said that you’re _hiding_ something, not that you’re _lying_.” Amanda leaned back and crossed her legs, the corner of her mouth twitching expectantly.

Spencer mimicked her. “And what is it that you think I’m hiding?” he asked.

Amanda thought for a moment, and when she spoke, her voice was almost sing-song: “Zugzwang.”

“It’s a chess term,” Spencer explained, “it means--”

“I know what it means,” Amanda snapped. “I wanna know your... _involvement_...with the victim.”

“I just told you,” Spencer murmured, “we profiled that the stalker was playing a game with us and we didn’t get there on time. You know the details.”

Amanda hummed. “That’s not the whole story.”

Spencer shifted in his seat. “It is.”

“No,” Amanda decided. “I see it in your eyes. There’s something about this... _Maeve_ …that you don’t want me to know.”

“You’re smart. Make the connections yourself.”

Amanda uncrossed her legs and smiled wryly. “You’re still grievin’, then?”

Spencer broke eye contact and blinked a few times before letting his gaze wander: to the floor, to the wall, to the ashtray on the desk. He started to speak, but then decided on a small hum of confirmation.

“Shame she had to die,” Amanda remarked. “That’s a lot of guilt you’re carrying, Dr. Reid--”

“Stop,” Spencer mumbled, though Amanda kept talking, “This is--”

“--Bet you’re thinking about all the different ways you could’ve saved her--”

“--Please don’t--”

“--You really have some sort of complex, but then again--”

“--I said _stop_ ,” Spencer interrupted, more firmly this time. He clenched his hands, waiting for Amanda to continue, but instead, she pursed her mouth and sat back, holding out her cigarette. Spencer slid over the lighter that perched on the edge of the table, just out of Amanda’s reach.

As Amanda fiddled with the lighter, Spencer said, “This isn’t about Maeve.”

“Isn’t it?” Amanda replied coyly.

“It isn’t,” Spencer repeated, holding out his hand. 

Amanda surrendered the lighter. “Then what’s this about?”

“You know.”

“Do I?”

“You do.”

Amanda’s mouth twitched. “I know what this is about for me,” she agreed, “but you’re a mystery, Dr. Reid.”

“How so?” Spencer asked, genuinely confused.

“Well, you’ve been here every year for four years now,” Amanda explained, “and in those four years, a whole lot has happened-- _whew_. Kidnappin’s and killin’s by the dozen.”

“Yes, but--”

“In these four years,” Amanda interrupted, “have you ever had...ambiguous endings?”

“There have been unsolved cases, yes,” Spencer confirmed.

“So…” Amanda paused to take another drag before asking, “what’s so special about me? What makes you come back to me every year?”

“Because you have a chance,” Spencer replied simply. “I can’t help people who are dead, who are out there, who confessed to their crimes, but...I _can_ help you.”

“I confessed to my crimes,” Amanda argued.

“You were also acquitted by reason of insanity,” Spencer countered.

“Maybe I just wanna seem crazy so they don’t give me the needle.”

“We both know that’s not true.”

Amanda didn’t reply. Spencer uncrossed his legs and leaned forward so that his elbows were balanced on his knees.

“You don’t have to protect him, Amanda. He’s safe now,” he said softly.

Amanda’s eyes glistened. “He will _never_ be safe. And you just have to accept that.”

There was a knock on the door; one of the nurses stuck her head in. “There's someone here for you, Dr. Reid,” she informed them.

“Thank you,” Spencer said, standing up. To Amanda, he added: “may I come by later?”

“Come all you want,” Amanda sighed, waving her hand dismissively. Spencer turned to go, but before he closed the door, she added: “but you’re wastin' your time.”

“We’ll see,” Spencer murmured ominously, giving her a small smile before exiting the room.

“I'm not doin' this to him,” Amanda called as he left. “I told you everything, Dr. Reid, so you might as well leave now! Unless,” she added, “you need me to help you sort out this...little _issue_ you got goin' on in that head of yours.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Things have been pretty slow so far, sorry about that. Luckily, though, the chapters are going to start picking up in terms of excitement and length. I hope you're enjoying this nonetheless!


	3. Matthew 14:26

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> _When the disciples saw him walking on the lake, they were terrified. “It’s a ghost,” they said, and cried out in fear._

**DALLAS, TEXAS**

This was not good. This was not good at all.

“Blake?” Spencer asked in disbelief as he exited the sanitarium. “What are you doing here?”

“Hotch sent me,” Blake answered, falling into step with him.

Spencer quickened his pace. “You shouldn’t be here.”

“Well, I am now. What do you--”

“No,” Spencer interrupted, “I mean it: you really _shouldn’t_ be here.”

Blake stopped walking and crossed her arms defiantly. “Why not?”

Spencer didn’t break his stride. “I don’t need anyone to baby me, Alex.”

“I’m not _babying_ you, Reid,” Blake insisted, hurrying to catch up. “I’m helping you.”

“I don’t need help.”

“Yes, you do!”

Spencer turned to face her, and his stare was piercing. Blake was momentarily taken aback; she wasn’t used to Spencer making eye contact, let alone _glaring_ with such ferocity. When he spoke, his voice shook, like he was trying to keep his emotions under control: “Don’t do this.”

“Why don’t you want my help?” Blake demanded.

“I’m ninety-percent sure Hotch told you why.”

“He did,” Blake admitted, “and I’m here anyway. This is difficult for you, Reid, everyone knows that.”

“ _Everyone_ should just leave me _alone_ ,” Spencer snapped, though his guard was slipping, and Blake knew that he was losing.

She took his hand. “Please. I won’t pry, I won’t listen in, I won’t do anything you don’t want me to do. Just let me be here for you.”

Spencer pulled his hand away and wiped his palm on his pants. After a moment, he relented: “I’m staying at a hotel in Fort Worth and my room has a pull-out couch I can sleep on. It’s 37 minutes from here.”

“I’ll take the couch. Do you want to drive?”

“...Fine.”

“Thank you.”

Spencer sighed and turned back towards the car, but Blake was still able to catch the smallest twinge of gratitude in his eyes.

__________

**FORT WORTH, TEXAS**

“Yeah, he’s okay,” Blake murmured into her phone, glancing at Spencer, who was lying supine on the bed. “He’s just frustrated.”

“ _Yeah, and rightfully so,_ ” JJ replied over the line. “ _Amanda never gives him any leverage and with everything that’s happened…_ ”

“It’s killing him,” Blake agreed. “He can’t stand not being able to help.”

“Could you not talk about me while I’m still in the room?” Spencer muttered tiredly.

“ _I’ll let you go,_ ” JJ said.

“JJ, wait.”

“ _What is it?_ ”

Spencer hoisted himself off the bed and trudged to the bathroom, feet dragging. Blake watched him go before turning back to the phone: “Tobias Hankel.”

“ _What about him?_ ”

__________

Spencer closed the bathroom door as quietly as possible and locked it twice before sliding down the wall and pressing the heels of his palms into his eyes. He could hear Blake on the phone in the other room, but her voice was muffled, and Spencer was too exhausted to eavesdrop.

“ _Choose one to die._ ”

His head snapped up so hard it hit the door. Spencer scrambled to his feet and turned around, but there was nothing there. He backed away slowly, groping the empty air behind him before his hands sought out the sink and gripped it tightly.

He was alone. He was imagining things. Spencer forced himself to take a deep breath before turning back around and running the sink water. Hotel bacteria was something to think about later; despite himself, Spencer stuck his face under the tap and let the hot water run over his face.

_Click._

Something hard and cold pressed into the back of his head.

Spencer looked up. Steam clouded the mirror, but he could very clearly see the silhouette of a man standing behind him, an arm extended. It leaned forward and dug the gun deeper into the base of Spencer’s skull.

“Who are you?” Spencer asked.

No answer.

“Blake.”

 _Click._ The figure pulled the hammer back.

“ _Blake_ ,” Spencer repeated, louder this time.

“Reid?” Blake called. “Everything all right in there?”

No. It wasn’t all right.

“Reid. Are you okay?”

The sink started to overflow and hot water scalded his fingertips.

“Spencer.”

There was a throbbing ache in the crook of his elbow. He ignored it.

“Spencer, open the door.”

He lifted a shaky hand and wiped the fog from the mirror.

“Reid. _Spencer_. Open the door _now!_ ”

There was no one behind him. Spencer spun around and the barrel of a revolver pressed into his forehead.

“I’m coming in!”

_Bang._

__________

“Tobias Hankel.”

“ _What about him?_ ”

Blake hesitated, struggling to find the right words. “I was...thinking that…”

“ _What? What is it?_ ”

“I know what happened, Hotch told me, but...do you think I could read the case reports?”

A pause. When JJ spoke again, her voice was shaky and quiet: “ _Reports aren’t the only things we have on that case._ ”

“How so?”

“ _Alex, what happened in there...you don’t want to see it. Trust me._ ”

“I think I should,” Blake admitted. “It hasn’t even been a full day and Reid...he’s not looking good.”

JJ sighed. “ _Just...Alex, promise me you'll keep an eye on him._ ”

“I promise. I just think reading these files will let me get a--”

“Blake _._ ”

That was Reid. Blake stood up quickly and walked to the door, eyebrows furrowed. “Reid?” she called, “Everything all right in there? I’ll call you back,” she added to JJ.

“ _Update me._ ”

“Of course.”

Blake tried the doorknob on the bathroom, but it was locked. Inside, she could hear running water, but nothing else. “Reid,” she tried, “are you okay?”

It was muffled, but through the door she could hear harsh, wheezing breaths.

“Spencer,” she said again.

Still nothing. Spencer’s breathing harmonized with the water, rushing out of the faucet and dripping steadily onto the floor. Something was seriously wrong.

“ _Spencer_ ,” Blake called loudly, “open the door.”

She tested the knob again. Locked.

Blake raised her voice: “Reid. _Spencer_. Open the door _now!_ ”

A small cry broke from the bathroom.

“I’m coming in!”

 _Bang._ The door flew open, and Blake jumped back to avoid being hit. “...Reid?”

Spencer was standing on shaky legs in front of the sink, which was near-overflowing with steaming water. Blake took a step forward. “Spencer.”

His chest heaved, and his eyes were wide and glistening. Other than a small exhale, it didn’t seem that Spencer had acknowledged her presence. Blake reached forward tentatively and brushed his hand with her fingers.

Wrong thing to do. Spencer yelped and jerked backwards, hard, and Blake held both arms in front of her as if steadying a horse.

“Reid!” she called, “Spencer, calm down!”

After a moment, Spencer blinked. “...Blake?”

Blake exhaled in relief. “Hey, there. What was that?”

“Nothing,” Spencer muttered quickly, pushing past her and sitting on the pull-out couch.

“That didn’t look like ‘nothing’,” Blake asserted, moving to stand in front of him.

“It was _nothing_ ,” Spencer snapped. “I’m fine.”

Blake was about to argue, but Spencer shot her a withering glare and she closed her mouth. Without another word, Spencer turned around so that his back was facing her, and burrowed underneath the blanket.

With a sigh, Blake retired to the bed, but instead of going to sleep, she reached into her go-bag and pulled out a laptop. She had an e-mail from JJ, but it wasn’t a file. It was a video.

Blake cast a nervous glance at Spencer, whose breathing had evened out, and opened the attachment.

“Okay, kiddo,” she murmured to herself, “let’s see what happened here.”

She hit play.


	4. Kings 19:7

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> _The angel of the Lord came back a second time and touched him and said, “Get up and eat, for the journey is too much for you.”_

**FORT WORTH, TEXAS**

“Hey, you’re not eating.”

Spencer looked up from where he had been previously picking at a plate of eggs and bacon, but didn’t respond. Blake couldn’t help but notice the dark circles under his eyes, the slouch in his shoulders.

“Did you sleep at all last night?”

“Yeah,” he murmured distantly, tipping his head back down to take another poke at his breakfast.

Blake sighed. “Tell me what I can--”

“You _can’t_ do anything,” Spencer interrupted, keeping his eyes trained on the table. “You haven’t been here the last three times I’ve done this, Blake. I never sleep when I go here, never eat when I go here. How can I?”

With that, he stood up abruptly, muttering a brief “excuse me” before making a beeline to the bathroom. Blake debated whether or not she should follow him, but decided against it. It probably wouldn’t make anything better, that’s for sure.

__________

Ignoring the queer look he received from one of the men inside the bathroom, Spencer hurried into one of the stalls and locked the door with shaky hands. His knees hit the tile with a sharp crack, but before the pain registered, Spencer gave in to the nausea gurgling in his stomach. Nothing came out, but for a while, Spencer couldn’t do anything but rest his forehead on the toilet seat while his stomach cramped and forced dry heaves out of his body.

“Hey.” Someone was knocking on the door. “Hey, pal, you good?”

Spencer got to his feet and unlocked the door to come face-to-face with a concerned face he couldn’t identify. He looked at his shoes.

The man reached out and planted a firm hand on Spencer’s shoulder. “Too much last night, eh?”

“Something like that,” Spencer replied.

“Take it easy, kid,” the man said with a final, reassuring pat, before leaving the bathroom.

_Facial blindness is a symptom of schizophrenia_ , Spencer’s mind supplied unhelpfully.

He turned to the sink and washed his hands until they bled.

__________

Blake paid while she waited for Spencer to emerge from the bathroom, and while she was alone, she allowed a couple of tears to slide down her cheeks, a shaky sigh to leave her lips.

She had watched the video feed of Spencer’s abduction, and JJ was right; it was difficult. Blake didn’t know what she was expecting, but whatever it was, that was worse. _So_ much worse.

When she first joined the team, she had met Spencer; an eager, animated kid who only seemed twenty-five and bubbled over with enthusiasm, statistics, and life. At first glance, there was nothing that could ever suggest he had gone through trauma, let alone such an ordeal as Tobias Hankel.

And Blake would be lying if she said he didn’t remind her of Ethan, just a little.

_“Tobias,” he whimpered, and his voice cracked. Blake couldn’t really see him, but she could hear Tobias--Rapheel? Charles?--murmuring almost gently, before taking a fistfull of his hair and throwing the chair back. Spencer hit the ground hard, and almost immediately his body locked up tight. Blake could only watch, horrified, as his limbs jerked and wet, startling gasps escaped his throat. She could hear the resounding slams of his skull hitting the ground, and before the seizure ended, she slammed the laptop shut and put her face in her hands._

_She couldn’t watch the rest._

Blake felt a tug in her gut. She _needed_ to know what happened next, but she was out of options. Of course, there was the video, but she couldn’t do that. Blake could handle a lot of things, but seeing a man that looked too similar to her son in such a state made her stomach clench. She could do blood. She could do torture. She could do seizures, but not on him. Not on her son.

Not again.

She wondered whether it was really worth it to reopen the laptop, but before she could make the decision, her phone buzzed. It was Garcia.

“Hey, Garcia,” she greeted.

“ _How’s my junior G-man?_ ” Garcia asked.

“Who--oh, yeah. Um...not good. Garcia, I need to ask you something.”

“ _Aw, baby--yeah, what?_ ”

“I saw the video feed with Hankel, and...I couldn’t finish it.”

“ _I know. I haven’t watched it since--_ ”

“What happened after?” Blake interrupted.

Garcia was silent for a moment, and when she spoke again, her voice had quieted to a level Blake had never heard before: “ _After what?_ ”

Blake paused, but Garcia seemed to know where she was in the video. “ _Um...so, Tobias--Charles--he, um, beat him, and, uh, Spencer...had a seizure. And--_ ” her voice broke. “ _And, he...died. Like,_ died _-died. We thought we lost him, but then Tobias brought him back. Gave CPR._ ”

“Oh, my God,” Blake breathed, “how did you find him?”

“ _See, that’s the thing--_ Spencer _helped us find him. He, uh, was held at gunpoint, and--well, in short...he gave Hotch this clue, like, in the Bible...um, I can’t remember, but...yeah. We used his hints that he’d been dropping to locate him, and...it was bad._ ”

“Was he okay when you found him, though?”

“ _Sort of,_ ” Garcia explained. “ _I mean, I wasn’t there, but JJ was, and Hotch, and Morgan, and they...he was really bad, Alex. Like...broken. And after--_ ”

Her voice broke in a choking sob, and Blake was at a loss. But after a shaky inhale, Garcia continued: “ _Afterwards, Spencer had a...problem. With, um, Dilaudid--the drugs that Tobias had given him in the cabin. And he, um, didn’t tell us. Gideon found out, somehow, and he didn’t tell us much, but I know he helped him get clean, and it was super bad. We all figured it out when he didn’t come to work for, like, a week. I came by his place, once, and, uh...yeah. Not good. But he’s clean now_ ,” she added hurriedly, “ _and he’s been for almost...six years now._ ”

“Can we go?”

Blake whipped around. Spencer was waiting behind her--how long had he been standing there?

“Okay, let’s go,” she agreed. “I’m on the phone with Garcia, do you want to say hi?”

Spencer held out his hand and Blake placed the phone in it. He took a few steps away, and she took the time to gather their stuff.

“Hi,” he was saying, “yeah...mm-hmm...it’s okay...yeah, thank you...okay. Okay...yeah. Bye, Garcia. Thank you.”

He handed the phone back, keeping his eyes down, she gave him his bag. Spencer stayed silent the entire walk to the car and continued to stay silent the entire drive to Dallas, and frankly, Blake couldn’t think of anything to say either.

__________

**DALLAS, TEXAS**

Blake watched Spencer go into the institution--he had insisted he go alone--and reclined the car seat as far as it would go, staring up at the ceiling. It would be a while, she figured, until Spencer came back out, but until then, what should she do?

She pulled out her laptop and scanned her inbox--2 e-mails; a consult and a reminder from the dentist. She answered both and shut the laptop, opened it again, and let the mouse linger over her downloaded files.

_vid.hankel.2007_

She turned Garcia’s transcript over in her head: Spencer _died._ He died, and then used the camera to tell the team where he was. Blake was admittedly impressed, but more sad than anything. She was tempted to ask how he got into that situation, but there was a good chance no one would have the heart to explain. It had been six years, too--no point in wondering what could have been done.

Another thing that struck her with surprise: Spencer was an addict. She knew how easy it was to get hooked on a drug like Dilaudid, but it still made her insides churn with unease. She wondered if he suffered much. She wondered how he got clean, alone. She wondered how he didn’t get caught.

There were a lot of things he didn’t tell them, she thought--getting kidnapped, getting addicted, falling in love...Blake came to realize that many of Spencer’s internal thoughts needed to be pried and coaxed out of him, even the simplest things. At a guess, Spencer was trying as hard as possible not to seem...what? Weak? Afraid? Young? Blake didn’t know. What she _did_ know was that there was no way in hell Spencer would tell her how interviewing Amanda was making him feel.

She glanced at the clock. It was still early.

After a moment of painful hesitation, Blake clicked the file.

_He's not Ethan_ , she reminded herself. 

But despite the number of times she kept repeating that, Blake couldn't get the thought out of her head.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter and the next one were originally supposed to be one chapter, but the next one is quite long, so I decided to split it. It should be up shortly. I hope you enjoy!


	5. Timothy 6:20

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> _Timothy, guard what has been entrusted to your care. Turn away from godless chatter and the opposing ideas of what is falsely called knowledge._

**DALLAS, TEXAS**

“You came back,” Amanda commented, when Spencer opened the door.

“I told you,” he said, “I’m not stopping until you help me.”

Amanda offered him a cigarette. He turned it down.

“So,” she said, striking a match and holding it to the cigarette, “they let me use lighters now.”

“You’re adjusting to life here.”

“Might as well, right?” Amanda paused to breathe in and blow out, and the smoke caught the light. “I did tell you that I’m never getting out of here.”

“But you can,” Spencer said earnestly, “if you help me.”

“And what do I get out of it?” Amanda asked, though she already knew what Spencer was going to say.

“Adam,” he replied, taking a seat in the chair by the window. “You get Adam back.”

“He can’t go back. He can’t take it.”

“You don’t know that.”

“Oh, but I _do_ ,” Amanda hissed, her tone suddenly cold. “I do, Dr. Reid. ‘Cause when Adam realizes what he’s done?” She didn’t finish her sentence, only leaned back and shook her head. “You’ll be sorry, Dr. Reid.”

“Nothing is going to happen to Adam when you leave,” Spencer said. “I _will_ be there for him, I promise.”

“Just like you were there for your little girlfriend?” Amanda sneered.

Spencer looked at the ground.

“Y’know,” Amanda mused, “you’re a sensitive guy, and I don’t mind that--hell, it’s kinda cute, watching a man act all sweet for me--but this year...there’s something else.” She clicked her tongue thoughtfully and leaned in, studying Spencer’s eyes. He averted her gaze. “What is it? Anger, maybe? Frustration? I ain’t really good at reading people, but hey--that’s your job.”

“What do you see?” Spencer murmured.

“You tell me, Dr. Reid. I ain’t saying nothing until you speak up.”

“This isn’t about me,” Spencer said carefully, “this is about Adam.”

“Broken record, broken record,” Amanda whined, “every year, it’s ‘let’s find Adam.’ ‘Let’s help Adam’. What about _me_ , huh?”

“What about you?”

“Can’t a girl get a little attention once in a while?” Amanda lamented. “Let’s get to know each other without lettin’ Adam get in the way.”

“Okay, then. What do you want to know?”

“ _There_ we go.” Amanda sat back in her chair, satisfied. “Now we’re gettin’ somewhere, Doc!”

Spencer crossed his legs and lifted his eyebrows expectantly.

“Okay, okay then.” Amanda coughed on the cigarette smoke and snuffed it out into the ashtray. “So! I wanna know what’s makin’ you so _tense_.”

“I told you yesterday, my--”

“I know that,” Amanda snapped, “but that’s not all, right?”

Spencer didn’t reply.

“There’s loss in your pretty little eyes,” Amanda deduced, “but it ain’t from a girl. Is it your birthday? Something happen to that precious team of yours?”

Spencer hesitated, weighing his options. He knew that telling Amanda everything would only give her an advantage, but on the other hand, it would also build rapport. After a moment, he admitted: “Six years ago today...I got kidnapped by a man named Tobias Hankel, and...and for some reason, I’m thinking about it more this year, and it’s...harder.”

Amanda whistled. “You got kidnapped? Boy, you look like a little balloon man at the car wash!”

Spencer glanced at his feet.

Amanda gawked. “Oh, it’s true,” she realized.

Spencer nodded, eyes still trained on the ground.

“Gosh” Amanda said, “I never in a million years woulda’ guessed _that_ about you.”

“It’s true,” Spencer confirmed.

“Poor thing,” Amanda cooed, “so much trauma in that beautiful brain of yours.”

“It’s not trauma,” Spencer said, “and I’ve recovered. So can you,” he added.

Amanda coughed out the last of the smoke in her lungs and shook her head. “You haven’t.”

“I beg your pardon?”

“You haven’t,” she repeated. “Haven’t recovered. That’s why you’re so sad, hm?”

“I’m not sad.”

Amanda waved her hand in a so-so gesture, then folded her hands neatly on top of her crossed legs. “Tobias Hankel, then. What happened to him? You visit him every year, too, with your little ‘I can help you’ speech?”

“No.”

“Ooh, that was a quick answer.”

“It’s the truth. I can’t visit him.”

“And why is that?”

“I killed him,” Spencer explained simply.

Amanda whistled. “I’m a polite lady,” she said, “and I don’t cuss, you know that, Dr. Reid, but... _damn_. There’s really more to you than meets the eye, Pretty Boy!”

“Don’t call me that,” Spencer said quietly.

“How’d you do it? _Why_ ’d you do it?” Amanda pressed.

“I don’t want to talk about it.”

Amanda batted her eyelashes. “Please? It might give me a little bit of... _inspiration_...to assist you.”

Spencer pursed his mouth.

“Ooh, you’re angry now,” Amanda purred.

“I’m not angry,” Spencer said, “and I know what you’re doing--you’re baiting me, trying to get me to open up about my life so that you can use it later. Your promises are empty; I can tell you anything you want and you will _still_ never give me anything, because you’re selfish.”

“I’m not selfish,” Amanda hissed.

“Yes, you are,” Spencer replied coldly. “You know, Amanda, part of me doubts you even want to help Adam. You’re not _protecting_ him; you’re _imprisoning_ him, because you’ve had a taste of life, and Adam was the only thing standing between you and the outside world--”

“You don’t know what the _hell_ you’re talking about, Dr. Reid--”

“--when actually, you’re just a part of Adam’s brain that’s psychopathic, vengeful, and taking advantage of itself--”

“--Stop right _now,_ or I swear, I’ll--”

“--You’ll what? You can’t _do_ anything here, Amanda.” Spencer twisted his mouth in contempt. “You think you have control, but you don’t. I am the _only_ thing standing between you and genpop, so you should _really_ listen to me, because I have spent _years_ researching you, researching Tobias, researching _what_ it was about you two that made such unconventional alters when there are _so_ many people like you who--”

“Tobias Hankel?” Amanda interrupted. “He was like Adam?”

Spencer stopped abruptly and blinked.

Amanda shook her head and gave a wry chuckle. “ _Now_ it makes sense,” she growled. “You don’t care about me, Dr. Reid. You just care about saving your _pitiful_ conscience.”

Spencer relaxed from his tensed position and rubbed his eyes tiredly. “I do care about you.”

“Me or Adam?”

“Both of you,” he insisted. “It’s just...everyone with DID is different, and yet, somehow...I don’t know how Adam could conjure up…”

“A killer?” Amanda guessed.

Spencer shook his head. “You’re not a murderer, Amanda, it’s more complex than that.”

“Courts say otherwise.”

“Courts look at facts and logic,” Spencer argued. “My team and I...we look at behavior. Emotions. The reason behind doing what you did.” Before Amanda could respond, he kept talking: “I’m sorry for snapping at you earlier, I really am. It’s just...hard. After Maeve, after...I’m really sorry, but I just _don’t_ know...how I can get through this, and I can’t live knowing there are people who needed my help, but I didn’t do anything about it.”

What Amanda did next surprised him--she softened and walked over to sit next to him. Spencer scooted over a little bit.

“I exist to help Adam,” she said softly, “I know that. We’re not too different, Dr. Reid--both of us in this world, tryin’ to make ourselves better for others because others couldn’t make it better for us. Which is why,” she added, “I can help you with your…difficulties.”

“How so?” Spencer asked.

“You like to say,” Amanda explained, “you and the other BAU boys get into the shoes of killers.”

“More-or-less. We think about the--”

“Just listen,” Amanda hushed. “Now, we may be too complex to be killers, but you could...profile yourself. Hm?”

“I don’t think I understand,” Spencer admitted.

“Relive the crime,” Amanda replied, “that’s what you say they do, killers, so...relive the crime.”

“...You want me to reenact my own trauma?” Spencer asked slowly.

Amanda shrugged. “Gotta be cathartic in some way.”

“What about you? Do you relive your crimes?”

Instead of answering directly, a coy smile tugged at Amanda’s lips. “I have a lotta free time, Dr. Reid.”

“You could keep doing that,” Spencer mused, “and actually...I think that doing so would help Adam. The more you think about what you did, the more you remember that it's over, and I hypothesize that maybe...it could dissociate you enough from the situation to lift the veil, in a manner of speaking.”

“Hold up,” Amanda scowled, “I thought we were talking about you.”

“Yes,” Spencer murmured, the idea dawning on him, “but it could actually...work for you, too. Amanda, you’re like Adam’s form of denial; his brain is protecting him from himself. The more you think about the fact that _you_ did your job and saved Adam, the more _Adam_ can slide back, and the more--”

Amanda held up a hand to silence him. “I don’t think that’s how it works.”

“We don’t know unless we try,” Spencer said, his voice high with excitement. “I mean, there’s _no_ logic supporting this, but...it’s all behavior, like we said. You, Amanda, came out because you had the skill set to deal with what Adam couldn't, but if you convince him that he's safe--”

“He will _never_ be safe,” Amanda insisted.

“He is,” Spencer breathed. “He is, and you know that. This...this could work.”

Amanda teared up, and moved off the couch to stand by the window. Her voice was quiet: “We’re back to where we started, then. You said you weren’t waiting for me to tire out, but this is just that, isn’t it? Just wanna find Adam, all day, every day?”

“No,” Spencer said, standing up. “No. I’m not waiting for you to tire out, and I’m not trying to find Adam anymore.”

She turned around, eyes glistening. “Then what?”

Spencer smiled softly. “I’m looking for _Adam_ to find himself.”


	6. Luke 24:39

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> _Look at my hands and my feet. It is I myself! Touch me and see; a ghost does not have flesh and bones, as you see I have._

**FORT WORTH, TEXAS**

Blake went to get dinner for the both of them, which meant Spencer was going to be alone in the hotel room for thirty minutes.

Tick, tock. He glanced at the clock. The room was completely dark save for the glow of a lonely lamp on the nightstand. Spencer stood in the center of the room, unsure of what else to do other than stare at the wall and try not to fall apart.

_Now, we may be too complex to be killers, but you could...profile yourself._

“We”. “We” may be too complex to be killers.

Killers.

Revisiting the crime, reenacting trauma. Spencer wasn’t a killer, he knew, but…

“You killed him.”

He turned around and came face-to-face with Tobias Hankel. 

Spencer’s breath caught in his throat, and he took a few stumbling steps backwards, almost bumping into the table. Tobias stayed where he was.

“Do you think I’ll get to see my mom again?” he implored, voice trembling.

“No,” Spencer breathed, walking backwards until his back hit the wall. “No. No. This isn’t real.”

Tobias ignored his pleas. “Maeve didn’t get to see her mom either,” he pointed out.

“This isn’t real,” Spencer repeated to himself. “This isn’t real, I’m alone, Blake is outside--”

“You’re hallucinating,” Tobias concurred. “How old are you now?”

“This isn’t schizophrenia,” Spencer mumbled, “This is sleep deprivation, this is stress--”

“You don’t know that,” Tobias argued, “because you’re not a doctor, right? Not really.”

“I am a doctor. My name is Dr. Spencer Reid, and I’m thirty-one years old, and I am _not_ going crazy, I’m in a hotel room in Fort Worth, Texas, and I’m here because--”

“You’re here because you’re weak,” Tobias interrupted, taking a step forward.

“I’m not weak.”

“Choose one to die.”

Spencer shook his head rapidly. “I’m not doing this. I’m not doing this.”

“Choose one to save, then,” Tobias offered.

_You just care about saving your pitiful conscience._

“Stop this,” Spencer whispered, “stop this, please.”

“Who are you talking to?” Tobias demanded, but his voice hardened, changed in tone. His posture shifted. “Ain’t nobody gonna hear you where you’re at.”

Spencer sank down onto his knees and bent over, cupping his hands over his ears, murmuring: “This isn’t real. This isn’t real.”

“You can make it go away,” Tobias said softly, crouching down in front of him. He placed a reassuring hand on Spencer’s knee, but Spencer didn’t feel it. It wasn’t real, he just had to keep telling himself that.

“It is real, though, right?” Tobias countered, as if he could read his mind. “Of course I can read your mind,” he added, “I _am_ your mind.”

Spencer pointed an accusatory finger at him. “Go away.”

“I can’t do that. I’m sorry.”

Spencer lifted his head and made eye contact with him, and his gaze was steady and calm--nothing like the jittery, unstable man Spencer had met in the cabin.

“It’s not too late to go back,” Tobias proposed.

Spencer felt cold. “No,” he hissed, “ _no._ I have been clean for _six years_ , and I am _never_...stop this, Tobias.”

“You’re lookin’ for Adam to find himself,” Tobias said, “what about you?”

_Both of us in this world, tryin’ to make ourselves better for others because others couldn’t make it better for us._

“I know who I am,” Spencer insisted.

“Do you know who you’re gonna be?” Tobias asked.

Spencer got up on shaky legs and crossed the room, running his hands through his hair and gripping it tightly. “I just have to stop thinking,” he told himself, “I just--ignore it. Ignore it. Ignore it.”

“Give you time to think about what you’ve done,” Tobias muttered, only it was Charles again. “Shoulda’ dug faster, boy. Maybe then you wouldn’t’ve gotten yourself into this mess.”

“This isn’t a mess. I’m doing the right thing.”

_I’m waiting for you to do the right thing._

“This ‘right thing’ is causing a _break_ , son,” Charles crowed.

“I’m not your son,” Spencer growled, “and I’m not having a break.”

“How do you explain this, then, hm? Is it witchcraft?”

“No.”

_That’s the devil vacating your body._

“Did it ever leave?” Tobias wondered.

“The devil was never in my body,” Spencer reminded them, “it was cardiac arrest.”

“Heart’s too weak,” Charles sneered, “damn, if that ain’t true.”

_You’re a sensitive guy, and I don’t mind that--hell, it’s kinda cute, watching a man act all sweet for me._

“You know what you have to do,” Tobias murmured. “It’s in your apartment.”

Spencer whimpered and bent over, digging the heels of his palms into his eyes. “No. I got rid of everything.”

“Sure about that?” Tobias asked, eyes narrowed with suspicion.

There was a knock on the door.

“She know about your problem?” Charles inquired, bitterness lacing his voice.

“I didn’t tell her.”

“Why not? You told her about Maeve,” Tobias reasoned.

“That was different.”

_We’re not too different, Dr. Reid._

“Neither are we,” Tobias said, shrugging slightly. “Why’d you choose Dilaudid?”

“Dilaudid’s highly addictive,” Spencer explained quietly, trying to keep his voice even, “you drugged me in that cabin and I got hooked. Against my will.”

“And then you took it _at your will_ ,” Charles spat. “Couldn’t get enough?”

“I was trying to forget.”

“Forgetting by using what you wanna forget?” Charles shook his head ruefully. “Bit of reverse psychology, ain’t it?”

Another knock, louder this time.

“It’s all in the behavior,” Tobias mumbled, “that’s what you said, right?”

The tears started to spill over. Spencer pressed his back into the corner of the wall and nodded shakily, keeping his hands over his eyes. His breaths came out quick and harsh, raw against his throat.

“Sentimentality,” Tobias continued, “isn’t that a little bit of the reason why you took it? That’s why I did, anyway. It’s a painkiller. And you were in pain, more-or-less, right?”

“Not anymore,” Spencer rasped, “not anymore. I’m not in pain. I’m not experiencing...anything. Stop.”

“What do you call _this_ , boy?” Charles hooted, gripping him by the shoulders. Spencer brought his hands over his and felt nothing but his shirt.

“Think about it,” Raphael said, his tone even and cold. When had he arrived? “And don’t think about it.”

“Spencer?” Blake called, though Spencer couldn’t see her.

“Do what has to be done,” Raphael murmured.

“And what is that?” Spencer whispered. “I don’t know...what’s happening to me?”

Raphael raised a pistol and brought it forward until the barrel went through Spencer’s head and lodged itself into his brain. “It’s all God’s plan.”

Spencer squeezed his eyes shut, and the gunshot rang through his head, sending a searing, white flash across his vision, and he imagined his brain expanding and painting the wall behind him like a water balloon, body collapsing forward, eyes bleeding, mouth bleeding, limbs loose, and he was dead.

Until he wasn’t.

Spencer shot up from the couch so fast he almost bumped heads with Blake, but he didn’t even see her at first, because he was too busy running his hands behind his head, scrambling, eyes rocketing around in their sockets, and he was breathing too fast, and where did Tobias go? Where was he? He glanced down and noticed a drop of blood on the blanket that was too gray for his liking, too gray against the couch, like concrete, and there was a dull ache in his arm again, so this time he gripped it, scratched at it, and it hurt, but whether it was from Diane’s bullet or Tobias’s drugs, he had no idea, and now his arm was bleeding, and now someone yanked his fingers away, wrapped their hand around his, pulled him to her chest, and Spencer’s voice broke into a sob.

The noise came rushing back: “Easy,” Blake whispered, “easy. Calm down.”

It was too familiar, with the concrete underneath him and the wound in his arm and Blake prying him away from Maeve.

“Stop,” Spencer said into her shoulder.

Blake didn’t budge. “Just calm down, Reid. Deep breaths.”

He inhaled, then exhaled, taking in his surroundings: no one else was there.

“Just a dream?” he croaked.

“Just a dream,” Blake confirmed. “You’re okay.”

_My name is Dr. Spencer Reid, and I’m thirty-one years old, and I am not going crazy, I’m in a hotel room in Fort Worth, Texas._

“M’not crazy,” Spencer mumbled, pulling away.

Blake held onto his shoulders, a soft smile tracing her lips. “You, my friend, are perfectly sane.”

He glanced down at her hands. They were empty. “Where’s the food?”

Blake’s expression turned somber and serious. “In the car. We have to go.”

“What? Blake, it’s--almost midnight!”

“Reid, calm down and listen to me,” Blake ordered, but Spencer didn’t calm down. He sprung off the couch and hurried to the door, struggling with his shoes.

“What? What is it?”

Blake wrung her hands and crossed the room with large strides. “Let’s go.”

“Blake. _Alex_. What?” Spencer demanded.

Blake hesitated, then finally told him: “The institution called me. Amanda had a switch.”


	7. Revelation 1:18

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> _I am the Living One; I was dead, and now look, I am alive for ever and ever! And I hold the keys of death and Hades._

**DALLAS, TEXAS**

Spencer stood outside Adam’s door for a moment before lifting a shaky fist and pounding--once, twice--slowly. He tried to get his nerves under control, but he could feel himself start to burst at the seams. An eternity of unknown waited on the other side of that door, and Spencer almost laughed--if _he_ was this much of a wreck, how was _Adam_ feeling?

He heard a voice--Anita--muffled through the door: “Stay calm, Adam. It’s Dr. Reid.”

Spencer took that as an invitation to open the door slowly and step into the room. “...Adam?”

Adam turned to look at him. He wore the same pink scrubs Spencer had seen him in for the past four years, but his eyes screamed with fear. His hair was mussed and wild. His hands shook violently, gripping his upper arms with such intensity they were starting to leave marks. Spencer reached for his own elbow and traced his finger along the small scars.

After a moment, Adam said: “I remember you.”

Spencer nodded. “I’m Dr. Spencer Reid.”

“Spencer,” Adam echoed hesitantly. “Where’s your friend?”

Spencer took the seat by the window and Anita moved to sit next to Adam, rubbing soothing circles into his shoulder. He flinched away.

“Adam,” Spencer said, “my friend is in Quantico, Virginia. Do you...know where you are? What year it is?”

Adam shook his head rapidly, and a tear ran down his face. “What’s going on?”

“Adam,” Spencer explained keeping his voice quiet and low, “you had a dissociative break, and you’ve been here for four years.”

“Four years? What--why?”

“Do you know who Amanda is?”

“Amanda,” Adam breathed, more tears streaming down his cheeks. “She--she’s me. No, this is--”

Spencer bit his lip. “Amanda...yeah, she’s you. And you...you did a lot of things, Adam. Bad things.”

“I know...I remember.”

“...You do?”

“It’s...in flashes,” Adam whispered, rubbing his eyes. “It’s--I don’t--what happened?” And then, before Spencer could answer him, Adam swallowed. “Oh, God. I killed them. I killed those men.”

Spencer nodded. “You’re in Dallas, in a psychological institution for the--”

“--criminally insane,” Adam finished shakily. “Yeah, I’ve seen movies. I’ve...I’ve lost it, haven’t I?”

His voice broke off in a soft, husky chuckle that quickly turned into a choking sob. Spencer shifted in his seat, unsure of what to say. After a moment, he settled on: “You’re not crazy, Adam.”

Adam shook his head again. “So...what now?”

“Honestly? I don’t know,” Spencer admitted. “Most likely, you’re going to be transferred to a men’s facility a few blocks from here, and with a little help...we could let you get back to normal.”

“Normal,” Adam breathed, as if the word was unfamiliar. He snorted. “I _killed_ people. Is that normal?”

“Well, no,” Spencer agreed, “but...you’re sick, Adam. This is a very unique situation, but I believe with time…”

He trailed off as something rustled behind him and turned around to see a shovel leaning against the wall, its head coated in mud and something else, rusty and red. Blood.

“...we can help,” Spencer murmured absently, then added to himself: “Why is there a shovel here?”

Adam stiffened. “Dr. Reid, there’s no shovel.”

“Dig faster,” Spencer breathed without thinking.

“What?”

Spencer blinked. The shovel was gone. He turned back to Adam. “I’m--I’m sorry.”

“No, it’s...it’s fine,” Adam replied, confused.

Spencer ran his tongue over his lips and looked into Adam’s eyes. “Do you need anything? Want anything?”

“Yeah, I--” Adam sucked in a sharp breath and coughed it out, “I want...Julie.”

Spencer broke eye contact and glanced nervously at Anita, who shrugged helplessly. Spencer struggled to find the right words, and after a moment, he told him: “Julie...she’s dead, Adam.”

No response.

“I’m sorry.”

“How--how?” Adam finally stammered, then exhaled as he realized. “No. Oh, no, no...did I--? Did Amanda--no. No, no, no.”

He stood up in his chair and paced the room, fisting his scrubs, his hair, and pulling hard. “I didn’t--I--no, please don’t say that she--”

Anita started forward, but Spencer held up his hand for her to stay still. “Adam,” he called, “ _Adam_.”

Adam stopped and looked at him, eyes red. “What did I do?” he sobbed.

Spencer shook his head. “I don’t--”

“--I need to go to jail. I need to--”

“Adam, you’re not going to jail. You were acquitted,” Spencer replied.

“No,” Adam cried, “No! There’s--there’s--no statute of limitations on murder.”

Spencer hesitated. “They acquitted you by reason of insanity,” he explained softly. “This is where they sent you after the trial.”

There was a knock on the door. Everyone turned to see Blake sticking her head into the door. “We’ve got to be at the DFW in thirty.”

Spencer nodded and stood up.

“So...that’s it, then?” Adam mumbled sadly. “You’re just gonna leave?”

“Adam--” Anita started.

“No, it’s fine,” Adam said wryly. “It’s...I get it. I’m just another closed case, right?”

Spencer and Blake exchanged a look with each other, unspoken words flitting between them. After a moment of silence, Blake nodded and left the room, and Spencer turned back to Adam.

“Actually...there may be something we can do about that.”

__________

**WASHINGTON, D.C**

**THREE WEEKS LATER**

“It’s...all so difficult,” Adam said, after a moment.

“Yeah, a lot’s happened,” Spencer agreed, closing the video camera. “Do you...need anything? Do you have any questions?”

Blake watched them from outside the room, so focused on the conversation that she didn’t notice JJ standing behind her. She turned around and startled.

“Sorry,” JJ apologized, patting her on the shoulder. “Didn’t mean to spook you.”

“It’s fine,” Blake chuckled, turning back to the window. She gestured to Spencer. “Looks like he’s doing better.”

“Yeah,” JJ agreed, and after a brief moment of hesitation, she added: “I was worried.”

“Yeah.”

Back in the small room, Adam tossed a cigarette in the trash. “They said they’re keeping me here for a while. Don’t know when I’ll be back out in the world.”

“You need time to adjust,” Spencer assured him. “It’s not so bad.”

“Yeah,” Adam murmured. “I guess it’s kind of a good thing, right?”

Spencer pursed his lips and nodded, eyes sad. Adam coughed the last of the cigarette smoke from his lungs and picked his way around the coffee table to move to the door, hands in his pockets.

“What’ve you been doing here, these past few weeks?” Spencer asked.

“I dunno,” Adam said. “Listening to music a lot--Johnny Cash, mostly.”

Spencer nodded, suddenly unsure of what to say. Before he could say anything, Adam piped up, his voice small and nervous: “Do you think...do you think Amanda will be back?”

Spencer shrugged. “Adam, people like you...your alters just don’t go away after the trauma is gone,” he said. “So I think...yeah, she might come back. But you know what?”

“What?”

Spencer gave him a small smile and held out a yellow note sheet, with numbers scrawled on it in red ink. “When Amanda comes back, have them give me a call.”

“...Thank you,” Adam said softly, accepting the paper.

Spencer tucked his own hands into his pockets and started towards the door, but paused. After a moment, he said: “Hang in there.”

Adam nodded, eyes glistening.

“Amanda’s just a part of you, but she isn’t... _you_ , y’know?” Spencer continued awkwardly, rocking on his heels. “And she isn’t bad. _You_ aren’t bad. You’re just...lost. It’s almost ironic, because all this time, we’ve talked about _finding_ you, and, um...yeah. I hope you find yourself again, I really do. And if you ever need anything, you know where I am...you can get through this, Adam. I believe in you.”

“All God’s will, right?” Adam replied.

Spencer stopped, his eyes suddenly cold. “God’s will,” he murmured, and there was fear leaking into his voice, but before Adam could say anything about it, he turned abruptly and left the room.

__________

“There’s a man going round taking names,” Blake commented distractedly.

“What?” JJ asked.

“There’s a man going round taking names,” Blake repeated, “and he decides who to free and who to blame. Everybody won’t be treated all the same.”

“That’s Johnny Cash, right? Like what Adam said he listened to?”

Blake nodded absently. “We freed Adam.”

“We did,” Spencer piped up, walking down the hall to meet them.

JJ smiled and gave his arm a small squeeze. “Doing okay?”

Spencer nodded quickly and ducked his head. “Yeah. Yeah, I’m okay.”

“That’s good enough for me,” Blake murmured, rubbing her hand up and down his back. “Ready to go home?”

Spencer smiled. “Let’s go.”

“There’s no one to blame,” JJ remarked as they started off. “Adam was Amanda, and even though he killed all those people...it’s gray. There’s no good, no evil.”

“Life tends to be that way,” Blake reasoned.

“I’m just glad it’s over,” JJ sighed. “This whole thing was...too complex for me to deal with.”

“Yeah,” Spencer murmured distantly, “it’s over.”

They piled into the car, Spencer taking the backseat. Rain started to fall, thumping against the windows, and the car was silent, with Blake at the wheel. Spencer allowed himself to recline his seat a little bit and close his eyes, running the words around in his mind.

_It’s over._

Who to free, who to blame. It’s something that comes up a lot in his work--at the end of the day, there’s no good and no evil, like JJ said. It’s all gray. It’s all complex. They freed Adam and blamed Adam, Spencer blamed himself and Spencer freed himself...or did he?

_It’s over._

His thoughts shifted: from Adam, to Maeve, to Tobias. Freed and blamed, the lot of them. Not-so-happy endings that could have ended worse. Gray and complex. Spencer leaned his head against the window and let himself be lulled to sleep by the gentle rocking of the car, one hand in his bag, clutching a book-- _The Narrative of John Smith._

_It’s over._

His fingers sifted past the book and through the pockets of his bag until they closed around a small vial.

_It’s over._

Except it wasn’t over, was it? Not for him.

_It’s over._

Everybody won’t be treated all the same.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ooh, that was quite a downer of an ending.
> 
> Anyway! I hope you enjoyed this fic nonetheless. It was something I hadn't really done before and had a lot of fun with, and I hope it was a decent read. Thank you to everyone who stuck around, it means a lot.


End file.
